


Troubled

by Johniarty



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 04:03:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3555356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johniarty/pseuds/Johniarty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's too much for him to bear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Troubled

_Get out of here, you worthless piece of shit._

In the darkness, Rumplestiltskin’s golden fingers tangled in his brown curls, tugging hard. The bones of his neck creaked in protest. How long? How long since she left? All his fault, his fault entirely, for such great cowardice…

Will. It all came down to Will. Will, who made her smile. Everything Rumplestiltskin could never give Belle - security. Normalcy. A husband who didn’t have three centuries of darkness festering in his heart.

_Better off she’s better off with the thief the liar just like Milah Milah all over again everything you did you did for her but_

That wasn’t true. He deserved this. He never deserved Milah’s betrayal.

_Ickle Rumple sat on the wall Ickle Rumple had a great fall all the queen’s soldiers and all of Belle’s heart couldn’t save Rumple from the smothering dark_

All he had now were his thoughts; black, corrupted, spreading throughout his mind and digging their tendrils in. Anger. Hatred. Rage. Dangerous emotions that coiled within him, tensed to spring at any moment. Fists beat against his skull, as if he could smash through to his brain and silence the deafening screams.

_Ugly little runt. Weak. Coward. Kiss my boot. Show fealty. Stop, stop, stop. Disgusting. Crocodile. No one can love you no one can love you no one can love you_

“I KNOW!”

Rumplestiltskin’s voice echoed through the stone of his makeshift cell in Storybrooke’s cemetery.

“Don’t you think I’m  a w a r e  of that?! Oh, yes, the beast, the crocodile, the villain in everyone’s perfect happy ending! RUMPLESTILTSKIN, THE LIAR! Rumplestiltskin, the IMP! … Shut up. Just shut up, leave me alone…”

Tears rolled down his cheeks, over the coarse golden skin that marked his true descent into nothing. Scarlett. Belle Gold, once, soon to be Belle Scarlett if Will had his way. Staining their true love with blood… He’d tear his throat out. He’d bathe in the spurting blood that soaked the floor and Belle’s white gown…

No.

No he wouldn’t.

He’d leave, like always. He’d try to forget everything that happened between them. Nearly fifty years of history, erased. It was possible; he’d done it for Snow. One potion, one drink to take the edge off.

Erase Belle.

Start over.

He didn’t need to forget his whole existence, after all… Just her.

All Rumplestiltskin needed to do was forget Belle.

“It’s like breathing,” he whispered. “Circulating blood. Sleeping. It’s natural, it’s a part of me, I can’t just forget. I’m - I’m afraid, I don’t know what that will make me, who I’ll be without her…”

                F   R   E   E   .

                                You’ll be free.

                                        Just let her go.

                                                                 Forget.

Making the potion wasn’t difficult. A matter of hours, really - in his self-imposed exile, he had all the ingredients he needed to draft the memory draught. Sweating, shaking, Rumplestiltskin went through the motions by rote. His mind - nor his heart - was in it. But it had to be done. He needed this. Belle needed this too.

_What if you erased yourself from her mind as well?_

As good as that would be for her, he couldn’t. He couldn’t erase her mind again. Hadn’t that been done enough? Between the spell on the town line and Regina’s bloody interference, Belle’s brains had been addled far beyond what they should be. He wouldn’t contribute to it, not for any reason.

Clear liquid sat in a small corked bottle. His freedom. His escape. Slender, ageless fingers lifted the vial and turned it in the moonlight. Rumplestiltskin did well.

“… Goodbye, Belle,” he whispered.

The cork fell to the stone beneath him.

Cold liquid slipped over his lips and froze his throat, leaving a frigid trail within him.

Upon its thaw, Rumplestiltskin had never felt better.


End file.
